


Stuck

by notmadderred



Series: Daredevil/Punisher Fics [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Bisexual Matt Murdock, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Frank Castle is Done With Matt's Shit, Human Disaster Matt Murdock, Identity Reveal, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 08:25:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17383106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notmadderred/pseuds/notmadderred
Summary: “It seems to me that we’re in a bit of a…” Matt squirmed in a muted effort to free his arms, “sticky situation.”“For fuck’s sake,” was Frank’s reply. They were currently back-to-back and covered in goop. It smelled distinctly of manure, and Matt was, of course, not a fan of manure. “Stop squirming, Red.”Matt complied, stilling every muscle in his body.No one spoke for about two minutes, but Matt was inclined to say he could hear the grinding gears in Frank’s brain as he, too, searched for a solution.When no solution came, he resumed squirming.“Jesus fuckin’--”





	Stuck

“It seems to me that we’re in a bit of a…” Matt squirmed in a muted effort to free his arms, “sticky situation.”

“For fuck’s sake,” was Frank’s reply. They were currently back-to-back and covered in goop. It smelled distinctly of manure, and Matt was, of course, not a fan of manure. “Stop squirming, Red.”

Matt complied, stilling every muscle in his body.

No one spoke for about two minutes, but Matt was inclined to say he could hear the grinding gears in Frank’s brain as he, too, searched for a solution. 

When no solution came, he resumed squirming.

“Jesus fuckin’--” Frank cut himself short and pushed his feet harder against the floor using what little leverage he had to tip the pair over. With a small yelp of protest, Matt was met with a face-full of concrete.

“Ow,” said Matt. His cheekbone was already bruising from the impact. He had to be in court tomorrow. Shit.

There were no bad guys here. Just a pair of complete moron-vigilantes who thought there was. And now this. Because only they would end up stuck together after a mishap in a glue factory.

“How did that help either of us?” Matt asked from his place on the floor. It was no use trying to regain his dignity, but he could keep trying to loosen the goop’s hold around him.

“How are you still wiggling around down there?” Frank asked, his tone incredulous.

“I have my -- _oof!_ \-- ways,” he said, and he finally had a single hand free. Sure, his back was contorted in an angle no doctor would deem healthy, but it was for the greater good.

Frank huffed above him, only to start a bit as Matt started slapping his hand around to try and grab ahold of one of his knives. “Sorry,” he offered half-heartedly. He could barely reach Frank’s mid-thigh, so this was getting real awkward real fast. He sensed the heat rise in Frank’s cheeks as Matt continued to feel along his leg, but he was quiet. Was that a bad thing? Probably. At the very least, it proved that the other man was extremely uncomfortable. That, paired with the increased heart rate. He repeated the apology, this time with more sincerity. Frank only offered a grunt.

He could tell where the knives were -- one was at the bottom of his thigh and the other was on the inside of it and… well, closer.

Matt started to aim for that one, face still squashed against the hard ground. 

Frank actually yelped this time when Matt changed tactics suddenly. His hand hit the other man’s groin (whoops), so Matt finally sighed. “You’re going to have to try to move up a bit. I won’t reach the knife otherwise.”

Frank didn't verbally complain, so Matt called that a win. Instead, he dug his heels in further and started trying to shimmy up, squashing Matt further while also freeing his hand up a tad.

The situation could have been worse. For example, they could’ve been face-to-face, in which Frank would definitely feel something of Matt’s that Matt didn't care to explain at the moment. 

(Frank was an attractive (yes, his senses were _that_ good… and, well, Karen gave detailed descriptions) and toned man. It was a natural response. So what if Matt got a little… excited?)

Matt, with a groan of effort, was able to grab the hilt.

Now he needed to get the knife out.

He shook it in its sheath a little.

Frank snorted. “Its’ made to hold out some tousling, Red. You’re gonna have to pull it out properly.”

“Oh, _now_ you talk,” Matt shot back childishly, and he only regretted it a little when Frank’s jaw snapped back shut and the heat on his cheeks spread down his neck. Matt wondered if the blush was visible to seeing people. 

So he tried pulling it properly, and he must’ve tried a bit too hard (okay, a lot too hard) because his hand then slammed into Frank’s groin.

Because Frank was badass, his breath only hitched at the pain before he held it to avoid making any noises.

Yeah, Matt hit him really hard.

“Uh, my bad,” he said dumbly, but hey: the knife was now free.

“Yup,” Frank said, his voice a hiss compared to its normal gravel.

But karma’s a bitch, and Matt is a beacon of bad luck.

Frank stiffened when he heard the clatter. “Red,” he said.

Matt wiggled a little, trying to hide despite the process being physically impossible. “Yup?”

“Did you just drop the fucking knife?”

“.... Yup.”

“I swear on my fuckin’ life, I’m gonna kill you.” Frank, to prove this, let all of his weight drop squarely onto Matt.

And just like that, the two of them were engaged in the worst possible fight in the history of bad fighting. They rolled a couple times, full barrel style. Matt couldn’t grab the knife because it was too flat against the floor, which pissed both of them off even further.

It was clearly a battle of wits -- no thought was given to decorum or playground rules. Elbows were thrown, and Matt will admit to attempted biting. 

However, given their sticky predicament, no blows actually landed properly until, somehow, the pair rolled _just_ right, and the knife got stuck in Matt’s side-thigh (read: side-butt).

Frank didn't notice, of course, and was still shifting around all however-many pounds of pure annoyance.

“Hey. Frank.”

Frank stopped, head twisting over his shoulder as he no-doubt attempted to glare at Matt. “What.”

“The knife is kinda stuck in my leg.”

“What?” Frank started shifting as he tried to get a better view. “Oh, yeah. That’s right in your ass.”

“A little decency would be nice.”

“Says the guy who punched me in the balls.”

“It was an accident!” Matt shifted, wincing a bit as the pain throbbed onceover. 

Frank snorted. “How does a guy accidentally stab himself in the ass?”

“Hey!” Matt wiggled as he attempted to move his free hand toward the knife. “It’s your fault. _You_ started the fight.”

Apparently, Frank deemed that unworthy of response. He sat still as Matt struggled, releasing only the occasional, demeaning chuckle.

Matt finally reached it. “Okay, he said, gripping the hilt very tight this time, “I’m gonna need to cut us out of this goop fast so I don’t start bleeding everywhere.”

He could feel Frank shrug against him. “‘Kay.”

“If I die,” Matt continued, and that got a brief, unexpected laugh from Frank, “tell my dog I love him.”

“You have a dog?”

“No. I was talking about your dog. I feel like we’ve gotten pretty close lately, and it’s time I own up some responsibility for Max.”

Matt sensed Frank give a full smile -- one that he was probably only comfortable doing since Matt was in no angle to see it. “You wanna co-parent my dog?”

“Our dog,” Matt said solemnly, and he pulled the knife out.

The bleeding started out slow, so Matt started working his way up the goop. It certainly was nothing like cutting through butter (or a person, on that note), but he was making progress. Enough that he was able to get both of their arms free so they could both work their way out of the mess together.

Matt sighed in relief once he was out. He felt a little woozy, but that was totally fine.

Frank cleared his throat. “You should probably patch that up,” he said.

Matt nodded. “Yeah. I should.” And then he careened forward.

Frank let out a string out curses as he dove to catch him.

“My bad!” Matt said, suddenly much more alive. He scrambled from Frank’s grip, ears burning with embarrassment. No time to explore _that_. He cocked his head, reaching out his senses for anything that could stop the blood flow.

Frank apparently thought faster, as he suddenly put something against Matt’s butt and wrapped material around his thigh and torso to hold it up. “Should stop the bleeding,” he explained.

Matt lifted a corner of his mouth. If he thought it couldn’t get more awkward. “I’ll try to pretend you didn't enjoy that,” he said, and immediately wished he hadn’t.

Frank froze partway through putting his bandages back in one of his many pockets. A beat later, he continued, the heat returning in more fury than before. “Don’t get cocky, Red. You don’t look that good.”

Lie.

Oh, shit.

A strangled noise came straight from Matt’s vocal cords. 

Frank looked up at Matt with what was likely a confused and concerned expression. “Red? Somethin’ the matter?”

Matt blinked, though Frank couldn’t see it under the mask. “I’m a human polygraph machine,” he blurted. And, _oh, shit, was he really doing this now?_

Frank slipped the knife, which he’d retrieved from the floor, back into its sheath. “You wanna explain what that means?”

“Well,” Matt said, one hand now reaching up to graze his mask. It was cool under his touch. “I have very good hearing.”

Frank was starting to get annoyed. “And?”

“I can hear heartbeats. So thanks for complimenting my ass.”

Frank’s shoulders drew back defensively, but he didn't say anything.

“Yours is nice, too,” Matt said.

“Oh my God,” Frank muttered, and he started to storm away.

“Wait!” Matt called, and before he could think twice, he pulled off his mask. Frank wouldn’t tell anyone who he was, but this was still a risk and--

Frank turned. His heart stuttered. “Murdock?”

“I have a complicated relationship with the law,” he said, “as well as with common sense.” He strolled forward toward Frank, whose heart was gaining speed much like Matt’s own but hell he wasn’t about to stop now--

He grabbed Frank by the shoulders, who (strangely) let him do this, and pushed him against the nearest wall.

Frank still wasn’t quite reacting, still letting Matt do whatever Matt was planning (Matt didn't know his own plan goddammit he wished Frank would do something why was he going all submissive now of all times)

He clutched the back of Frank’s head and leaned forward, pushing his lips against Frank’s.

What the hell was he thinking he was not thinking this was a terrible idea Frank kills people which isn’t good but this feels good and

Frank opened his mouth and started to kiss him back.

Matt could smell the mix of sweat and gunpowder radiating off Frank’s body. He could feel the stubble along his face from forgetting to shave or choosing not to. He could feel as Frank seemed to give in to the touch beneath him, could hear him release a soft moan when Matt deepened the touch.

The kiss felt eternal, like they were two puzzle pieces finally learning to come together only to never come apart. 

But it was also raw. Matt pushed forward, full of want, and Frank dissolved beneath him like an aching flower begging for the sun.

Frank was consuming so much of his attention -- _all_ of his attention -- and he missed as the doors to the factory slid open.

“I got the call! I think you butt-dialed me but I want to make sure you aren’t-- holy _shit!"_

Matt pulled back quickly, eyes wide as he faced where Foggy was standing.

“Oh… oh my God,” said Foggy.

“Uh,” said Matt.

“Is that-- are you-- how long has this been going on!”

“Just now?” Matt answered. Frank was still breathing heavily, leaning against the wall as his heart kept thumping fast. 

Foggy leaned over to look at Frank, who (if Matt’s senses were right, which they usually were) was very much facing the floor as if in shock. “Frank Castle?” Foggy said because, like Matt, he had no common sense.

Before Foggy could ask the question on the tip of his tongue, Frank took a deep breath that pulled himself together and began strutting away. “I’ll catch you later, Red,” he called, not bothering to even look in Matt’s direction.

“Huh,” said Matt. He angled his head to look at Foggy best he could. “The Punisher’s a bottom.”

“Matt! No! Why did you--! I didn't want you to just--! I didn't even know you were bi and you’re already pretending it’s normal! What the hell, man -- give me a second to breathe!”

“I punched him in the dick,” Matt continued, a grin spreading on his lips, “and he liked it.”

“Matt! Please!” Foggy continued, but he was starting to laugh.

“He basically stabbed me in the ass, and I liked that.”

“Matt!”

**Author's Note:**

> matt stfu smh


End file.
